


Daddy Sammy

by Buckybeardreams



Series: The Classifieds [40]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Baby Tony knows too much, Baby!Tony, Classifications, Daddy!Sam, Gen, Genius Tony Stark, Little!Bucky - Freeform, Little!Tony, Littles Are Known, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sam just cant keep up, alternate universe - classifications, daddy!Phil, little!Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckybeardreams/pseuds/Buckybeardreams
Summary: Sam gets advice from fellow Caregivers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, Tony Stark & Sam Wilson
Series: The Classifieds [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898527
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	Daddy Sammy

Sam was trying to just get back into the flow of things. They'd just gotten back from Wakanda yesterday. He had Tony and Bucky at home with him. Bucky was doing immensely well. Which was a relief. Sam was also relieved that things between his threesm boys seemed to have evened out.

At the moment, he was busy cooking dinner, while the boys played in the nursery.

"It's my cement mixa." Bucky told the baby holding the truck up for him to see.  
  
Tony frowned.  
  
He may be Little, but Tony was well aware that cement was merely an ingredient in concrete, therefore the truck was a concrete mixer.  
  
"Concwete." He said, trying to convey this message to his brother.  
  
Bucky frowned back at him.  
  
"Cement mixa twuck." Bucky said slowly, like he was trying to teach the baby something new.  
  
Tony huffed.  
  
"Concwete mixa twuck." The baby said back, just as slowly, pointing at the truck.  
  
"No, baby. Ce-men-t. Can you say cement?"  
  
Tony made a frustrated sound.

"Sammy!" He called out, hoping the adult could translate for him.  
  
Sam appeared quickly in the door.  
  
"What? What happened?"  
  
"Da baby don't know what a cement mixa is, Sammy."  
  
"Concwete!"  
  
Sam blinked.  
  
"Oh. Um, okay. Tony, this is Bucky's cement mixer." Sam said, crouching down in front of Tony.  
  
Tony shook his head. That was so wrong.  
  
"No."  
  
Sam raised a brow.  
  
"Do you wanna play with a truck, too, buddy?"

Tony huffed.

"Con-cwete!" He yelled at the Caregiver.

"Concrete?"

Tony nodded his head. Finally.

"The truck lays out cement and it becomes concrete. Is that what you're trying to say?"

No. That was completely inaccurate. It was a common misconception, but in fact the trucked laid out concrete and when it hardened, it was still concrete. It merely shifts from a liquid to a solid.

"No." The baby corrected. "Concwete. No cement."

Sam looked completely lost. Bucky gave Sam an exasperated look.  
  
"Babies." He said, shaking his head.  
  
Tony's lip quivered and he opened his mouth. Bucky dropped his truck, covering his ears as Tony started screaming. He was frustrated. He knew what he meant, but noone seemed to understand him.  
  
"No! Stop, Tony!" Bucky yelled at him, looking like he wanted to cry.  
  
"Woah, hey, hey, it's okay! Come here, bud. Oh, poor baby." He said scooping Tony up.  
  
The baby's screams quieted down to sobs and he smushed his face against Sam's shoulder.  
  
"Concwete, Daddy. Concwete." He sobbed.

"Shh, it's okay. I know, it's getting late. You're hungry and tired, and things are just so hard."

Tony just cried harder. Things were so hard, because noone seemed to understand him. He was just a stupid baby and he couldn't figure out how to get his point across. He hated it.

* * *

"Sam, can we talk?" Tony asked.

Sam glanced up from where he had been helping Bucky and Tasha build a spaceship with legos. He was mostly there to ensure Bucky didn't put any of the pieces in his mouth. The toddler was less likely to than say Tony was, but on occasion, Bucky did suck on things.

"Don't worry, Sam. I'll keep an eye on him." Phil said. "Go talk to your boy."

Sam nodded his thanks and went to sit at the table, but Tony walked into the kitchen instead. Sam raised a brow, but followed after him.

"What's up, Tony?" He asked.

Tony shifted nervously, biting his lip. He was staring at the ground, avoiding eye contact with Sam. His fingers fidgeting with his shirt. Sam watched him carefully, concerned that something was really wrong.

Tony sighed.

"I need to talk to you about something that happened yesterday."

Sam's eyes widened a fraction, before he controlled his expression. He tried to think back on the events of the previous day. Searching his mind for anything alarming that may have happened, but it had been a pretty normal day. The boys bickered a bit, there was a little bit of fussing, whining, and crying. Nothing unusual for a toddler and a baby.

"Of course. I'm always willing to talk about anything you feels important, Tony."

Tony nodded.

"It's just, I wasn't Little for a really long time you know, and now I'm more Little than not. Or at least it feels that way sometimes. I know with everything that's happened over the last month or so, I've been Big a lot, but- well, I guess I'm trying to say- dammit, I don't know what I'm trying to say."

He snapped his jaw shut, cutting off his ramblings.

"Do you want to be Little less?" Sam prompted, when Tony didn't continue.

He shook his head.

"That's not it. I think it's good for me to be Little a lot, like, well, ya know, like Bucky."

"Okay." Sam said, but it sounded more like a question than anything else.

Tony looked nervous. His eyes darting around the kitchen.

"You can tell me anything, Tony."

Tony nodded, but he stayed silent, and the minutes dragged on.

"Is this about something I did? Or Bucky?"

"No! God, no. It's not you. It's me, Sam. I'm the problem."

Sam frowned.

"You're not a problem. Tell me why you think that, because I promise, it's not true."

"It is. I am. I just- I get so frustrated sometimes, when I'm Little."

Sam paused for a moment, considering this.

"Why do you think that is?"

Tony rolled his eyes at the very therapist like question.

"Because, I'm a stupid baby." He said, bitterly.

Sam stepped closer, putting his hands on Tony's shoulders.

"Don't say that. You're not, Tony. You're sweet, and adorable, and brilliant, and we all love you so much. Please, tell me why you're feeling this way. I can't help, if I don't know why."

Sam's praise made his heart pound in his chest. He started to feel that warm and fuzzy feeling, but it was drowned out by his shame. Tony sighed, finally meeting Sam's eyes.

"I don't talk right, Sam. I think just fine. A bit more childish sure, but I'm not an idiot. I know that. My mind still functions, when I'm Little. I think that almost makes it even more frustrating, because I know what I want to say. I just can't seem to say it. The words get all jumbled up, somewhere in between my thoughts and speaking them. When I do talk, it just doesn't come out right."

Sam nodded, but he was still confused.

"Tony, you're a baby. Lots of Littles that drop as young as you do, don't talk much or sometimes not at all. When they do, their words often sound different, not so clear. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I actually think it's really cute. Besides, even Steve and Bucky struggle with pronouncing their words sometimes. It's not just you, Tony."

"I know that." Tony groaned.

He was blushing over the cute comment. He could really only take so much praise, before he just didn't know what to do with it anymore. He tried to push on anyways.

"It's just, Sam, I don't like it. It's hard. Yesterday, do you remember when I got frustrated over the concrete mixer truck?"

Sam furrowed his brows, but nodded.

"The cement mixer truck, you mean."

"No, god, see that's my point. It's not a cement mixer. Cement is an ingredient inside of concrete. It's a concrete mixer truck. It pours out concrete in its liquid state. When it hardens it becomes concrete in its solid state, but it's still concrete."

Sam eyes widened.

"That's what you were trying to tell me."

"Yes, exactly."

"I'm so sorry, Tony. I totally dismissed you, too. That was my fault, not yours. I'll try harder from now on to not write off what you're saying or feeling. I guess I didn't realize that this was something you were struggling so much with."

"It's fine, Sam. It's just frustrating and I don't like it."

"I'm so sorry, Tony. You do realize that this doesn't mean you're stupid when you're Little. It means you're very smart. So smart that you know things that I don't know. Which might sometimes make it challenging for me to translate what you're saying, but I promise I'm going to try harder to understand you."

"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it."

Tony shifted again, and then wrapped his arms around his Caregiver.

"I wanna be Little now, Sammy."

Sam smiled and hugged him back. He kissed his head and nodded.

"You go ahead and be Little, then. I'll take care of you, baby."

Tony whimpered.

"Up." He mumbled into Sam's shoulder.

Sam chuckled and pulled him into his arms.

"Come on, let's go watch Bucky and Tasha build."

Sam waited until the three Littles were busy playing, the legos safely tucked away, before pulling Phil over to the table.

"I can't stop thinking about something. I want to tell you about it, because, well, I don't want talk to my boys about it."

Phil raised a brow.

"I'll listen to anything you have to say Sam, but if it involves your Littles, you probably should talk to them about it."

Sam sighed, nodding. Phil raised a brow when a small smile slipped onto Sam's lips.

"In Wakanda, Tony called me Dada. It's happened a couple of times since then, too. T'challa referred to me as Daddy, and I think maybe the baby just kinda latched on to it. Like a baby learning a new word, or something. I know he's heard it before, but never directed towards me, you know." Sam said.

He couldn't help the way he broke out in a grin, just thinking about it. Phil smiled, too.

"That's great, Sam. You seem excited about."

Sam's grin wavered, and a serious expression took over his features.

"I don't want Tony to feel like he has to call me Daddy or anything. He was really young at the time, and I'm not sure he even realized he'd did it. Now, I'm wondering if he just isn't aware when he does it, or if he actually wants to say it."

Phil nodded in understanding.

"I know what you mean. Tasha recently called me Daddy. I haven't brought it up with her, because I'm pretty sure she didn't really mean to say it."

"Wow! That's just, don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't think she'd ever call you Daddy."

Phil chuckled.

"I'm not offended in the slightest. I wasn't sure myself. Tasha, she's got her own set of challenges. Not that any of our Littles really don't have things to overcome. If I'm being honest, I never thought you'd get to be called Daddy."

"So, do you agree that I shouldn't bring it up?"

Phil sighed.

"I think it's up to you to decide, Sam. I understand not wanting to pressure him, but there's always a chance that Tony wants to call you Daddy, but he's not sure you want that. I mean, neither of your other boys calls you that. It's the opposite with Tasha. I know she doesn't doubt that I like being called Daddy, but I don't think she wants it."

Sam considered that for a moment.

"Maybe you're right. What if Steve and Bucky feel bad about it, though?"

Phil looked surprised by that.

"You think they'll be jealous?"

Sam shook his head. That's not what he meant.

"No, Bucky seemed pretty shocked the first time he heard it, almost upset even, but he's heard it a couple of times since then, and barely batted an eye at it. I'm more worried that they might feel bad, if they think I want that."

"Ah, I see. You're worried they may feel pressured to call you Daddy, if they thought that's what you want from them. Or guilty if they don't call you Daddy. "

Sam nodded.

"I just want them to call me whatever makes them happy. I like it when they call me Sammy, I think it's cute. I don't need any of them to call me Daddy. I know I'm their dad and they're my boys, know matter what they call me."

"Then, tell them that. I think they'll understand where you're coming from. I'd talk to them about it when they're Big, if I were you, but there's no real reason not to bring it up. I'm not saying you have to, though. Just think about it. If you want talk about it. I say do it."

* * *

Sam felt really good after talking to Phil, so he decided to get some advice about Tony feeling frustrated, too. Bucky and Tony were at May and Phil's place. Not because Sam needed to work, he still had time off to focus on Bucky, in fact, he'd taken so much time off recently that he was worried he'd lose his job. No, Sam was here to talk to Wade.

When Sam brought up the cement, or concrete, mixer truck instance with Wade, wondering if he ever had problems with Peter getting frustrated, because noone understood him. Wade nodded in understanding.

"All the time." Wade told him.  
  
"I feel so bad for him, but I don't know half of things he does. Sometimes I struggle to understand him when he's Big, because he talks about things that make no sense to me. When he's Little, it can be damn near impossible."

Wade gave him a sympathetic look.

"I get that. I also have baby genius."

"What do you do?" Sam asked.  
  
"Try teaching him sign language." He suggested. "Tony's a smart baby, he'll pick up on it quickly. Peter did. It's something we only started recently, but he already knows the whole alphabet. I've also been teaching him baby ASL. Things like more and all done. It helps a lot when he's not able to form words, or I just can't understand the ones he does."

Sam nodded.

"Huh. I never thought of that. Thanks, Wade."

"Of course. No problem."

"Well, I should, I don't know, go to the library, I guess."

Wade laughed.

"Try the internet. On a different note, we should get the babies together soon. Peter's really been missing Tony."

"Yeah, of course. I'll call you and we can set up a playdate."

* * *

"Hey, buddy! Did you have fun with May?"

Tony whined and held his arms up. Sam cooed at him and scooped him up.

"How's he been?" He asked May.

"He's had a good day, but he's a little upset that he can't play with Leo and Jemma. They have small pieces out, so I've been keeping Bucky and Tony in the living room for the past hour."

Sam nodded. That was reasonable.

"Thanks, May. I really appreciate you taking them so last minute."

"You know we're always happy to help when we can, Sam."

"I see Bucky doesn't mind it so much."

May chuckled.

"He wasn't thrilled, but, as you can see, Frozen II did the trick. I think Tony's a little over it though."

"Aren't we all." Sam said, but he smiled at the toddler, his eyes glued to the screen. "Alright, well I guess I better pry him away."

Bucky was not thrilled to have his movie turned off. He kicked and screamed, until Sam promised to let him watch the rest of it at home. Even then, he pouted all the way there. Now, with Bucky settled down on the couch, Sam turned his attention to Tony.

"I have something for you, Tony. Do you want to see?"

Tony nodded his head eagerly.

"Okay, do you know what sign language is?" Sam asked.

Tony knew a lot of languages. Sometimes he would randomly throw out a word in a foreign language. Which admittedly made it harder for Sam to determine if Tony was mispronouncing an English word, or speaking an entirely different language all together. Sam figured there was a good chance the Little already knew what ASL was.

Tony nodded, holding up his pointer fingers and swirling them around eachother in circles. Sam furrowed his brows. Shit. Did Tony know more signs than Sam managed to look up this afternoon? Actually that didn't shock Sam in the slightest. Of course, he did.

"Great, well, um do you know the alphabet?"

Tony tilted his head and made the same sign again, followed by what Sam was pretty sure was an A, B, and C. Though he could be entirely wrong about that. His knowledge of the nonverbal language was very limited.

"Yeah, you know your ABC's?" Sam asked, praying he got that right.

Tony grinned and held up his fist, and made a motion that Sam thought looked a little nodding with your hand. Sam glanced over at the two posters he'd gone out and purchased. He laid them both down in front of Tony. According to the posters, the sign Tony had just made, meant yes. Tony looked over them, fascinated. One showed twenty different common signs for babies. The other one showed the alphabet.

He shrieked in delight, moving his hands around. Sam chuckled. His genius baby sure knew a lot more than he did.

"Okay, well, it looks like you already know a lot more than I do, Tony, but I'm going to try to learn. Then, you can sign when you want to tell me something. Even if words are hard."

Tony looked up at him and beamed.

* * *

"Hey, Tony. If I could just chat with you for a moment, before you go down to your lab, that'd be great."

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I was wondering how you feel about the whole ASL thing?"

Tony smirked.

"I think it's perfect, Sam. I wouldn't have asked you to do it, because I know learning a new language isn't an easy task and you already have your hands full. I'm really grateful that you're trying, though."

"Im happy to do it. This is important, Tony. For you and for me. Maybe we can teach a bit to Steve and Bucky, too. It couldn't hurt for us all to learn something new, and work on our communication skills." Sam said, his voice switching form serious to light and teasing.

Tony laughed.

"Yeah, well, I think the three of us still need to work on communicating in English, but yeah, maybe we could teach them a bit, too." Tony teased back.

"I'll see if I can get us signed up for an ASL class for Littles. At least, just the two of us, but I can ask Steve and Bucky if they want to join, too."

"Sure. Thanks, Sam. I mean it. I don't say it often enough, but you're a really good Caregiver. You're a, um, a really good daddy." Tony said, blushing.

Sam broke out into a grin.

"Thank you. I- can I hug you?" Sam asked, sounding uncertain, but also insanely happy.

Tony coughed awkwardly, but held out his arms and let Sam wrap him up in a hug.

"Thank you, Tony. You have no idea how happy that makes me." He murmured.

Tony nodded, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." He mumbled into Sam's shoulder.

Sam stepped back to give him space after a moment.

"Right, well. I'm gonna go. I'll see you later." Tony said.

"Yeah, of course. Bye, um, be safe." Sam said.

Tony sighed at the awkward response.

"Let's not let this change things, yeah. Nothing's really different now. You were always our dad, even if we didn't call you that. Some people don't ever call their dads Daddy. Sometimes it's Papa, or whatever. For us, it was Sammy. It is Sammy. You're still Sammy, even if I sometimes call you, um, Daddy, too."

Sam nodded.

"I get it. And I knew that. I've always known I was your dad. I just want you to know that this doesn't make me feel like I'm more of your dad, or that you were ever any less my son. I also don't need you to call me Daddy, if you don't want to. I think Sammy's pretty cute."

Tony blushed.

"Yeah, I know, Sammy. I like calling you Daddy, though. I called my father that, you know?"

Sam swallowed.

"No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well, I did. He wasn't a very good one, but you are. You deserve it, Sammy."

Sam nodded.

"Do you want to come home, bud?" He asked.

Tony shook his head.

"Nah, I'm good. I'm not slipping. I'm just- I just want you to know that I love you, even when I'm Big."

Tony glanced back at him, once more, before entering the elevator.

* * *

Sam sat down Steve and Bucky that evening, both of who looked anxious. Sam knew why they thought they were here.

"I want to start by saying this isn't about you two. I want to talk about Tony."

He watched them share a confused look.

"Why? Is he okay?" Steve asked.

"Is this about the whole sleeping with Strange thing, 'cause I'm not tryna control him or nothin'."

Sam coughed into his fist.

"Really, Strange?" Steve asked, making a face.

Bucky gave him a look that said I-know-right.

"Okay, focus guys." Sam interrupted.

"Right, sorry, Sam. I'll tell you about it later, Stevie."

"This has nothing to do with Strange. Tony's fine. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk about him calling me Daddy. I want to see how that makes you guys feel." Sam said, watching them both carefully.

He saw the surprise flicker across Steve's face and the understanding dawning on Bucky's.

"Oh, that's all? I don't care about that, Sam." Bucky said.

"You're sure, because it seemed like maybe you did, that time when you guys were in the bath."

Bucky blushed, probably at the mention of being in the bath, Sam thought.

"Yeah, well, I mean, it was shocking. My first instinct, I guess, was to correct him. I mean, he's a baby and I'm his big brother, so yeah. I just kinda thought he was making a mistake. He's done it a couple times since then, though. I think he just likes it."

Sam smiled.

"I'm glad that you don't mind. Tony told me he does like it. What about you Steve? How do you feel about it?"

Steve shrugged.

"I don't really have much of an opinion on the matter, Sam. I think if that's what Tony wants, and your okay with it, then I don't see why he shouldn't call you Daddy."

"Okay, well, thank you for sharing your feelings with me. Both of you. I would just like to say that I really like being called Sammy, too. I don't need to be called Daddy to know I'm your dad."

Steve nodded, but Bucky frowned.

"Are you our dad?" He asked.

Sam's eyes widened. He was honestly caught off guard by the question.

"Of course, he's our dad, Buck. What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I know your more than just our guardian. I know you're our Caregiver, but I didn't realize that, I mean, doesn't Sammy sound more like Mommy?"

Sam blinked at the question. Steve gave Bucky a strange look.

"What? Doesn't it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Steve asked, thoroughly confused.

"Is that just me, then? 'Cause I always figured we called him Sammy, 'cause it was like Sam and Mommy put together."

"Really? I just thought it was, because his name is Sam."

Bucky frowned.

"Well, I mean, yeah, but is that really just me? You've never thought that before?"

Steve shook his head.

"Definitely not."

"Huh. Okay, well, I mean, whatever."

Sam finally interrupted, shaking off the surprise he felt. That's really not what he was expecting.

"Well, Bucky. If you want to call me, Mommy, you can."

Bucky scoffed.

"Why would I call you Mommy, when I already call you Sammy?" He asked, sounding honestly confused.

"Right, nevermind. The point is, you guys can call me whatever you want to call me."

They muttered their okays and Sam came away from the conversation feeling amused, but also relieved.

* * *

Sam wasn't terribly surprised when Bucky brought it up again. It was one thing to talk about something with a Little when they were Big, but that didn't mean they necessarily understood it or were as accepting of it, when they were dropped. It had nothing to do with a lack of intelligence. They were still the same person when they regressed, but they might not always see things the same way. Having a childish perspective had both advantages and disadvantages. The same way having an adult perspective does.

"Do I have ta call ya Daddy?" Bucky asked.

"Of course not, buddy."

"But I can, if I wanna?"

Sam smiled softly.

"Anytime you want to, little one."

"Do I hafta choose?"

Sam shook his headm

"Not at all. You can call me Sammy, or Daddy, or Daddy Sammy." Sam said, tickling him.

Bucky giggled, pushing his hands away.

"Dat's silly. I'm not gonna call ya dat."

"You're silly."

Bucky grinned, snuggling closer to his Caregiver.

"You can call me whatever makes you most comfortable, Bucky. Whatever feels right to you. Okay? You could even call me Mommy if you want to."

Bucky had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Maybe I could have two daddies." He said.

The way his voice rose at the end, made it sound like a question.

"You can have as many daddies as you want, baby." Sam murmured.

He ran his hand through Bucky's hair. The Littke nuzzled against his hand. Then he frowned.

"Not a baby, Sammy."

"I know, but you're my baby."

Bucky's eyes widened and he stared at Sam for a moment, like he was seeing him for the first time.

"Oh." He said, like he'd just made a new discovery.

"I'll read you one more book, then you've got to go to sleep."

"Daddy? Will ya stay wif me?"

Sam felt that feeling inside of him that was staring to become familiar. The rush of emotions. He stared at Bucky for a moment, before pulling himself together enough to speak.

"Yeah, of course, bud."

Bucky smiled softly.

"Okay, Sammy. Just one mo'." He whispered.

His eyes fluttered shut, while Sam read Goodnight, Goddnight Construction Trucks. It wasn't until the book was back on the bookshelf and the only lights in the room were the blue stars casted across the ceiling, that a thought came to the Caregiver. Sam was almost asleep, his eyes shut. Bucky was breathing softly in his arms, his hands hugging his bear to him. It was then that it occurred to Sam that that's what Steve would say in response to that particular comment. Whereas Sam, usually told him he was his big boy, in response to Bucky declaring he wasn't a baby.

_You're still my baby, aren't you, Buck? Let Daddy baby you._

Sam suddenly felt very awake. His heart was racing in his chest. He studied the light flush of Bucky's cheeks and the way his lips where slightly parted, drool dribbling out of the corner. His long lashes laying angelicly on his skin. His chest rising and falling with small puffs of breath. The boys fingers were buried in his stuffies fur.

Sam was remembering the way Bucky had looked at him and he realized that for the first time the boy had seen him as his daddy. Not just a parental figure or a Caregiver, or a Mommy, as Sam realized the boy had been seeing him. Sam couldn't help but grin, hugging the boy closer to him. He was equally parts awed and amused. In awe because there was something inexplicably beautiful about this moment. Amused, because he had never realized, after all these years, that Bucky had seen him as his mom.

It didn't offend Sam in the slightest. In fact, he thought it was pretty damn cute.


End file.
